Spock deals with emotions
by orangekangaroo
Summary: Spock doesn't show emotion. But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it, especially when it comes to the crew of the Enterprise. Spock deals with his crew-mates' emotions in various situations while trying to help them. Sometimes Kirk, Uhura, Chekov, Bones, Sulu and others help him. Rating may change after later chapters. Readers' suggestions welcome. Contains possible adult situation
1. Kirk gets drunk

"Spock, has anyone ever told you you're really strong?" Kirk slurred as his second-in-command helped him stagger to his quarters at Starfleet headquarters.

"Yes, Captain. As I am half Vulcan, I am physically stronger than a full human." Spock answered briskly. "As your first mate, it is my duty to inform you when I believe that your actions are not logical."

"Oh come on, Spock." Kirk rolled his eyes drunkenly.

"Sir, an insignificant contest based on the amounts of alcohol that each contestant can consume before sucumbing to unconsciousness is not only unnecessary but also dangerous." By now, Spock had managed to reach Kirk's door, open it, and half-drag half-push Kirk inside.

"Oh lighten up, Pointy. I was representing Earth in a very, very important..." Kirk squinted as he tried valiantly to make words. "Thingy." Kirk managed to escape Spock's grip and fall flat on his face. If Spock had not been half Vulcan, he would have rolled his eyes.

"Captain, I hardly think a drinking game is an important 'thingy', as you call it." Spock dragged Kirk to his feet. Kirk giggled stupidly.

"You said thingy." Kirk giggled again and Spock shifted the arm around his waist to support his weight better as they reached his bed.

"So I did, Captain." Spock unceremoniously dropped Kirk onto his bed and removed his shoes. Kirk rolled over onto his side and smiled sleepily.

"You're a good friend, you know that?" Kirk yawned. Spock stood with his hands behind his back.

"You are my Captain, it is my job to take care of-"

Kirk covered his ears childishly. "Spock, I don't want to hear any logic. It doesn't make sense when I'm sober or when I'm buzzed."

Spock was about to point out that Kirk was a long ways away from "buzzed", when Kirk surprised him.

"You know, I never apologized for talking about your mom that day." Kirk, suddenly serious as only the very drunk can be, faced Spock. "I know that logically, it led to my position as Captain and I saved the day, blah blah blah," Kirk waved his hands vaguely in the air to punctuate his speech.

"Captain, I understand why you did what you did. Provoking me to show emotion was a logical choice. I was obviously compromised and your actions saved the Earth." Spock reasoned. Though it did..._feel _nice to hear that his friend hadn't forgotten about that day. The day his world was literally torn apart.

"Doesn't mean I don't regret insulting your relationship with your mother." Spock quirked an eyebrow.

"Even after I nearly killed you?"

"Okay, that sucked. But I would have reacted same way in your place." Kirk suddenly laughed again, dissipating the serious tone and reminding Spock that Kirk was in fact, hammered.

"What is amusing you now, Captain?" Spock asked curiously.

"I was just imagining myself with your eyebrows." Kirk laughed again and slipped into sleep.

Spock relaxed slightly and pulled the blankets over his friend.

Kirk woke the next morning to find a bottle of water and two aspirin on his bedside table. Then the headache hit and he groaned.

"Pointy-eared bastard."

**Hello, please review if you like this. Or if you don't. Whatever, it's a free country. Anyways, I would like this story to have to "audience participation" and will take suggestion for the next situation for Spock to encounter. Remember, these chapters don't have to be related at all, the sky is the limit. The rating on this story can change depending on what suggestions I get, so don't be afraid of pairings.**


	2. Spock regards a sleeping Nyota

Nyota Uhura was one of Spock's greatest unsolvable mysteries. As someone that used logic to solve problems, this could be vexing. The dark skinned woman had immediately caught Spock's attention with her no-nonsense attitude and incredible courage. It was hard to tell what she was thinking, but she wore her emotions on her sleeve, the opposite of himself.

Nyota shifted beside him in the bed, moving closer and laying her head on his shoulder. She sighed in her sleep, and Spock took this opportunity to study her face. Without makeup or her hair pulled back, it was possible to see his lover as someone entirely different. She looked younger, without the cares of the world bothering her. Logically, Spock knew she should be with someone as openly passionate as she was. Like Kirk. And yet, there she was, in his bed on the Enterprise.

Suddenly her features pinched and her eyebrows knitted in the middle. A nightmare. A logical occurrence after everything she had been through as a member of the Enterprise's crew. Spock himself had reoccurring dreams, not as often as Nyota, but they were still there. Spock placed his hand lightly on her temple and joined their consciousness. It was a familiar dream of Nyota running through the Enterprise, running but not going anywhere. Spock sent a wave of emotions to her: calm, warmth, reassurance, and something stronger. Something that if Spock looked deep under his layers of logic, was akin to love. He felt Nyota calming, and her breathing slow. He separated from her and went back to watching her sleep peacefully.

Logically, nightmares were something that Nyota was capable of coping with on her own. On the nights when Spock was out on mission or just not with her, she obviously dealt with them. But he could not quell the urge to take away the need for her to do so alone when he had the power. As he was half-Vulcan, he did not need as much sleep as often as a human did. But after Nyota was almost killed earlier that day, he felt the irrational need to be close to her.

The Enterprise had discovered a new planet, inhabited by a civilization that spoke a language similar to Klingon. Unfortunately, due to a cultural misunderstanding, Nyota had been mistaken for an offering to the apparent king and was seized roughly. Spock barely contained his anger as Kirk informed the king in no uncertain terms that Nyota was not a slave to be bought and used. For one tense moment, it seemed as though there would be a shootout until the king wisely decided not to tempt the firey-eyed human named James Kirk.

Spock ran a soft hand over the faint bruises on the arm Nyota had thrown over his chest.

_Nyota boarded the ship quietly, clutching the torn fabric of her StarFleet uniform to her body. The king had ripped it when he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap. Spock was close to her, stone-face and impassive as ever. But she knew that he was boiling with rage. Her Captain, of course, was not as subtle with his anger. She was dreading the walk through the ship with her dress ripped to her hips when a blue piece of fabric was held in front of her. Spock had wordlessly taken off his blue uniform shirt and stood in his black standard-issue undershirt, his eyes unreadable. Nyota took it slowly and pulled it over her head, letting the clean scent of Spock calm her. They reached an elevator, and an unspoken conversation passed between Spock and Kirk. Kirk nodded and left them alone together in the small elevator. In a rare show of emotion, Spock pulled Nyota to him and turned on the emergency stop. Nyota stiffened momentarily at the unexpected contact but soon melted into him. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her closed eyes, and her lips. He ran his hands through her hair and held her close by her waist. In that moment, nothing existed but Spock and Nyota, with Spock returning the comfort she had offered him after his mother died. Finally, she reached over and turned the elevator back on. Spock cupped her face and wiped away the last of her tears as the doors opened. Then he was his normal impassive self again. But he was Nyota's impassive Spock.  
_

Spock brushed Nyota's hair back from her face. She was the reason he understood his father's love for his mother. She made him not want to always push his emotions away. It was an unlikely romance, one that Kirk never missed an opportunity to poke fun at.

Spock felt himself slipping into sleep. He would need his rest if he were to function at his highest level tomorrow. He shifted his body so that he was forming a protective cocoon around Nyota. He knew it was illogical to feel so protective as they were on the Enterprise and safe as they could be.

But that's what Nyota did. She made him illogical.

**So there's that. Hope you liked it. Let me know if you did. Not to sound hopeless for reviews, but...review me please. :)**


	3. Chekov is poisoned

It doesn't take long for everything to "go to hell", as the Doctor put it. A rather curious expression in Spock's opinion, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. The task at hand was dangerous for both him and the young navigator who's he had entered.

Spock had led a landing party to a planet inhabited by a primitive humanoid species with strict orders not to be seen unless absolutely necessary. The only reason Star Fleet was interested in this planet was the medicinal properties some its plants were believed to posses. As chief science officer, Spock was charged with collecting samples of the plants in question for analysis. He had chosen a few security personnel to accompany him as well as Ensign Chekov. Kirk had elected not to go. Chekov was more than eager to go though. McCoy had also decided to go as the head Doctor aboard the Enterprise. He was going to help Spock analyze the samples.

They had landed in the lush forest that covered most of the planet with tall strange-looking trees and enormous flowers with ooze dripping off. Spock gave specific instructions not to touch anything while he and McCoy worked. Chekov was in charge of the navigation device that led them to the most likely positions of the plants. Spock had almost finished collecting what he came for when everything went wrong. The first indicator was the strangled cry that came from one of the security personnel. Spock turned in time to see the man fall flat on his back, ten rustic-looking darts lodged in his chest.

A war cry rang out and the men caught a glimpse of brown fur clothing and jet black scales. Another volley of arrows took out the other unfortunate red shirts.

"Take cover!" McCoy yelled at Chekov as he knelt beside a fallen man, checking his vitals. He was convulsing violently, and then he suddenly stopped.

"Spock to Enterprise. The native population have discovered us. Three men are down, presumed dead." Spock said calmly into his communicator. Chekov was behind a rock, Spcok crouching beside him and McCoy was kneeling behind a tree.

"Hold on, locking your coordinates." A male voice answered. Chekov felt his heart racing as he scanned the woods with his phaser drawn. How does one hide from something that moves unseen and can attack from all angles?

"Dammit, man. Hurry up!" McCoy growled into his communicator. Chekov heard a twip snap behind him as a weight slammed into him. Several arrows clattered on the rock where his head had been before his commander slammed him into the ground. Chekov felt a sharp pain in his hand and pulled out a shard of wood about 5 inches long. The warm tingling of transport filled him as the world turned fuzzy. He blinked and they were on the Enterprise.

"Jesus, Spock. I can't let you go anywhere, can I?" Kirk looked visibly relieved to see the remaining members of the landing party. Spock knew that beneath his intial relief, his Captain would be experiencing grief and guilt over the deaths of the other men. It was an illogical yet natural response for humans. He turned to the Ensign.

"Ensign Chekov, you are breathing at approximately double your normal rate. Are you injured?" Spock looked at the young man. His skin was pale, he was sweating profusely, and his eyes were glazed as if with a high fever.

"I do not feel wery good, Commander." Chekov mumbled. The people around him were blurring and shifting like reflections in water. He saw a woman in the corner of the room with her back to the men. She turned to look at him, and the soft curls peeking out from under the head scarf she wore were familiar. Chocolate brown eyes met his.

"Ensign. Chekov." Kirk's voice snapped him out of his trance. "Are you ok? Your hand is bleeding."

"Don't you see her?" Chekov asked. He stumbled forward and Spock caught him.

"Who do you see?" Spock asked coolly. Chokov looked at him with glassy eyes.

"Your mother." He whispered. Then the young officer passed out. Spock looked at McCoy.

"The dart must have been coated in some kind of neurotoxin that caused a hallucination." Spock handed the unconscious young man to a nurse. McCoy held a bioscanner and waited for results.

"His vitals are accelerated and his brain activity is spiking. Get him to the medical bay right now." McCoy followed his staff to the medical bay with Jim and Spock following behind. "Stay here. I'll give you an update when he's stable."

"Doctor, he's crashing!" Someone yelled. McCoy swore and turned away.

* * *

"Spock and I have managed to synthesize an antidote. But at the rate his brain is firing, he'll die before it can take effect." McCoy sighed heavily. "He needs to relax, basically."

"I have a plan. If I perform a mind-meld, I may be able to forcibly calm his neurons until the toxin is reduced." Spock said. "However, unless I am ordered to do so, this kind of mind-meld is unethical as I would be tampering with his emotions."

"Will you be safe?" Kirk asked slowly.

"Yes, Captain. As long as I am undisturbed for the duration of the meld, I will be able to shield my mind from his." Spock stood with his hands behind his back. "With your permission, Captain, I will begin right away."

"As your Captain, I order you to do it." Kirk watched his first officer walk into the med bay. "No one but McCoy is to go in there until Spock comes out."

* * *

Spock sat beside the bed. The young man in it was soaked in sweat and his eyes rolled beneath his eyelids. Spock cleared his mind and placed his hand on Chekov's face. He was plunged into a whirl of images and thoughts and emotions, and suddenly he was hit with an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt. Chekov's guilt over the death of his mother, his fear of failure, everything the young man had ever been afraid of cascaded around him. His most private thoughts, memories, and emotions were ripped open and mixed together. After his initial shock, Spock slowly sent out tendrils of his mind toward Chekov, projecting emotions.

_Trust me/here to help/let me in/calm/safe/forgiven/I forgive you/calm down/safe/peace /forgiven/not alone/do not be afraid/calm/relax/relax/ do not be afraid/I am here/calm/clear your mind/clear/clear your thoughts/it was not your fault/relax/  
_

Chekov's mind was slowly cocooned in Spock's, and slowly began to relax. Spock felt Chekov's neurons begin to slow their frantic firing to a slightly more normal state.

It seemed as though many hours had passed before Spock felt Chekov's fear recede completely. Spock carefully extracted himself from Chekov's mind, careful not to disturb any of the private memories he had been privy to. As he removed his hand and opened his eyes, he saw that Chekov was stirring. He waited until the ensign had fully awoken. His vitals had evened out and the scanners showed improved organ function. Chekov's eyes met his.

"Commander?" Chekov asked, as though he couldn't believe that the half-Vulcan had been inside his mind. All the things he had seen.

"Ensign Chekov." Spock acknowledged him. Chekov smiled weakly at Spock but his bottom lip started to quiver and tears started to roll down his cheeks. Spock, his head still swimming with residual emotions, reached out to place a hand on Chekov's wrist. Chekov covered Spock's hand with his own as exhaustion and embarrassment and pain took over. He cried, chocolate brown eyes watching him the whole time and the strong hand on his wrist acting as an anchor. Finally he cried himself to sleep. Spock disentangled his hand from Chekov's grasp and left the room to fetch the Doctor.

**Well hopefully you liked this one. Another story as well as a private request inspired it. Turned out a bit differently than I had planned, but...I like it. Also, please excuse any logical fallacies. Review me please and I will love you (virtually, of course.)**


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